


(It Could Have Been) Perfect

by thelinksthatconnectus (orphan_account)



Series: The Warriors of Hyrule [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Dark Character, Drabble Collection, F/M, Game Spoilers, Gen, Obsession, Unhealthy Relationships, twisted feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2457212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thelinksthatconnectus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desire can be a terrible emotion, and the way people react to this emotion can have horrific consequences - both for them and others.</p><p>A collection of drabbles exploring various characters' dark wants throughout Hyrule Warriors. Game spoilers!</p><p>Current stories:<br/>1. Cia/Link - Him<br/>2. Cia/Dark Link - Fake<br/>3. Ganondorf (Gen) - Homeland<br/>4. Zelda/Volga - Unorthodox<br/>5. Cia & Volga (Gen) - Strikes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Him - Cia/Link

**Author's Note:**

> All these drabbles are works of fiction, and please see them only as such. These stories will often deal with unhealthy relationships, and actual relationships in real life should in no way reflect what happens in these fics. Extra trigger warnings will be added when needed.

Cia couldn't even enjoy her own temple any longer. The realization hit her hard, and made her wrap her arms around her waist. Everywhere she looked there was Link - from the paintings on the walls (with those eyes that seemed to see nothing and everything) to the statues in her Rose garden. How could she enjoy it when her hero was all around her and yet still miles away from her?

For a moment, her eyes shot over to where her crystal ball sat. Oh, how small it was from the distance. Even a few feet away, she could still make out the figure moving across the glass dressed in green.

Without any warning, she ran from her room. The heels of her boots and the tip of her staff clacked against the floor as she ran, and the few monsters standing outside her door stiffened in formation like soldiers.

Cia, however, ignored her minions. Racing down the hallway, she struggled to force visions of Link from her mind. There were so many other things for her think of - battle plans, what to do with the Triforce, and working on new spells.

But it all came back to him, didn't it? What use was ruling the world if there was not someone to enjoy it with? Without him, it seemed like such a lonely thing - even another eternal punishment. Besides, as she had watched the world outside of her temple pass her by, her eyes had only been on Link.

Link - valiant, heroic, courageous, and hers.

Once she reached the side of her rose garden, she relaxed. Taking a deep breath, Cia breathed in the smell of her red roses. The sweet scent filled the air, encasing her. If there was any place for her to think, then it was there.

Just relax, she thought as she walked down the various rows of roses. Leaning down, she pulled one from its bush and held it up to her nose.

The sweet smell slowly revived her, as did the statues.

"Soon," she whispered, placing the rose by the statue of her hero. "Soon." Her fingers trailed along the smooth stone cheek of her hero's first incarnation - the boy with the sword turned skyward.

She stayed outside for a while longer, allowing her limbs to relax and her mind to drift into fantasies. It was hard not to. Oh, she could just see it now! Link with his arm held out, ready to go for a stroll in the gardens. Cia would giggle and accept, and the two would spend hours alone, the scarlet colored flowers their only other companions.

Then, once her mind calmed, she returned inside straight backed and with her staff held tightly.

There was work to be done, but it would be worth it. After all, it would all be done for him.


	2. Fake - Cia/Link, Cia/Dark Link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked just like him, but he was not him.

Even though he was hardly more than a living, moving shadow, there was no denying just whom he resembled. Cia stared into his blood red eyes and smirked at the determined frown on his face. Just like Link, this doppelgänger held his sword out, and stood ever ready for battle.

Not that there was anything to fight (or even worry) about. Cia would no sooner harm her creations then she would the hero himself - well, at least not enough to where his wounds couldn't heal. Just hard enough to bring him to his knees.

Though the shadowy creature noticed her, he did not move.

"Remain still," she said, more to herself than to Link.

He stilled completely, his eyes freezing and body locking in place in a way that was by no means natural. Cia doubted that the real Link, no matter how extraordinary, could do something quite like that.

Her hands did not shake as she reached toward the shadowy thing, but they fell to her sides the moment after she touched his cheek.

A sound of disgust, completely involuntary, came from the back of her throat. She stepped back and grabbed her right hand with her left. The fingers of her right hand were still cold from the feel of her shadowy Link's cheek.

Her Hero's cheek couldn't truly be that cold, not really. He was a warm blooded boy with a fire in his heart, who never stopped moving and feared nothing.

"Get away from me," she said, waving her hand at it.

Her Link - her Dark Link - looked up, his red eyes glowing but face blank.

"I said go! Vanish!" She clenched her fists. "Go!"

And just like that, he was gone, becoming nothing more than dark smoke in the air.

The room, now empty, turned quiet. Cia sighed and held her face in her hands. She had nearly all the power in the world, and she couldn't even make a believable fake.

It took her a moment to notice the tears at her eyes. All around her, the paintings of Link blurred, until he was nothing but a watery blob of green. It was only when her tears had completely dried that she could see clearly again.

"You fool," she muttered, turning towards the door. "What did you truly expect? Did you really think that you could replace someone as incredible as Link?"

No, a small part of her had thought. Why would she want to replace him? Her eyes wondered the empty room, focusing on the paintings of her hero on the wall. The art was breath taking - the closest thing that she had to seeing him while in battle or through her crystal ball.

No, she would never try to replace him. Only fools or weaklings would lower themselves to finding substitutes.

It would just be nice to fill the loneliness while she waited for him to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though these first 2 stories have been Cia/Link, there will be other pairings.


	3. Homeland - Ganondorf (Gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Already, he could feel the sting of sand against his skin and the harsh rays of the sun - lacking comfort, yet holding familiarity.

Even before he had reached his ancestral home, the one that he had not seen in years (save in his dreams, which seemed to last on into an eternity), Ganondorf knew where he was. For all the years that had passed since he had lost his body, since a sword was rammed through his chest by a boy in green, none of that time could take away the years he had spent among the Gerudo. Already, he could feel the sting of sand against his skin and the harsh rays of the sun - lacking comfort, yet holding familiarity.

"Master," Ghirahim said, "is something wrong?"

Ganondorf turned his head, finally noticing Zant and Ghirahim behind him. He had thought they would have separated off, looking for enemies to fight and ways to impress him.

"Fine," he finally said, turning his head forward.

"Is there anything that we can do for you?" Zant asked, voice high pitched and eager.

"Anything you ask," Ghirahim added.

"Pick up the pace," he responded.

They moved forward faster, until the grass vanished beneath a blanket of sand and the clouds fled. The desert was as hot, dry, and hard as Ganondorf remembered.

It was almost like stepping into the past.

Almost.

He crossed through the desert, his sword raised and red hair blowing in the rough wind. Even after the long walk, his legs still could not seem to move fast enough, and he at times found himself sprinting.

Zant and Ghirahim found themselves fighting - Ganondorf merely sliced. Capturing keeps, handling tougher enemies, and rescuing imprisoned monsters was their job. Ganondorf merely searched, running across the desert just like he had as a boy.

Unlike the callous boy he was then, Ganondorf now had a goal. As he searched the desert, he kept his eyes opened for women, and his ears ever listening for the clank of swords or the sound of Gerudo hymns and prayers to the goddess Din.

He looked and he listened.

By the time Ganondorf slowed, he had a whole army of monsters battling beside him - none of whom he himself had freed. Bases that he had not captured were under his name, and a main base was being constructed to house him and his soldiers.

He searched the whole night, looking across the harsh land. The emptied prisons stank only of monsters, and what remained of his former homeland's building had to be repaired to hold his new army.

It was the Gerudo desert, Ganondorf knew. It still was, centuries later, if only in name.


	4. Unorthodox - Volga/Zelda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were not the lovers of fairy stories.
> 
> Zelda/Volga with side Lana/Link

There would be no great stories of them, no tales passed down to generation after generation to keep their story alive and not one of time's countless buried memories. No songs would be sung, no tapestries created, or paintings laboriously made. No part of the two would reach paper, and the word of their relationship would die with gossipers.

No one, after all, wanted to hear of a princess falling in love with a dragon. The princess falling in love with a hero would be something they would settle for, and listen to with eager ears. It did not even matter if the hero loved the white sorceress, as surely no tales would be told of the two either.

No, they would be remolded and recreated, becoming nothing more than lies wrapped in pretty words. History would forget so a hero could marry a princess, so the sorceress could weep, so that the dragon would suffer.

Dragons, after all, were supposed to kidnap princesses, locking them away in towers or eating them raw. That was what the tales told and that was what the people would believe.

But how could he even dream of hurting her? Zelda was a natural beauty, like a field of flowers or a waterfall, something that may commonly be seen before knowing its true beauty. To hurt her would be like forcing nature to bend to his will, to do as he wished. To lock her in a tower would be robbing a nation of its ruler, to never let a bird again fly.

Volga wouldn't stand for it. He had hurt her before, when he had been weak and under Cia's power. Back then he would have gladly sent the princess up in smoke.

Now was different.

Now he had a story to witness, to experience, before the pages of time ended and the book was closed.

For now he had Zelda - determined and strong, powerful and noble. No past and no future, only the now.

And for now that was all that mattered.


	5. Strikes - Cia & Volga (Gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence
> 
> Without Volga, she lacked extra support and a leader for her army, and without the support of an army she had less of a chance of capturing the Triforce and Link.

Cia raised her whip, ready to strike. She had expected Volga to fight back and resist her, and had even seen it in her crystal ball. Still, if she had to make him bow to her, then she would; he would not be the first man to bow to her, nor would he be the last.

Without Volga, she lacked extra support and a leader for her army, and without the support of an army she had less of a chance of capturing the Triforce and Link.

The sound of her whip meeting Volga's skin rang through her ears. Volga weakened for a moment, his formerly composed position changing and his stoic face turned to one of distress. Never one to wait, Cia struck him again and again, until the sound of his cries and the crack of her whip were equally as loud.

"I have no desire to work with mortals," he said, voice weak. "Your petty desires for power do not matter to me."

Cia chuckled, just before she struck him again. "And that," Cia responded, "is where you are wrong, dragon knight. I am no mortal."

Her next strike was harsh, using every bit of strength in her body, the very sound echoing across the stone walls for miles.


End file.
